What's In A Memory?
by SirPeterWolfsBane
Summary: A series of drabbles based on a Susan/Peter RP I have. Obviously Peter/Susan, halfbrother!Peter. Don't like don't blah blah blah. Fluffyness, angstyness, if you like it it's probably here. The only thing we lack is nudity... so far.
1. Butterfly Kisses

"Hello, Lucy," Peter said, peering into her bassonet, "I'm Peter, your big brother. We met already but I just wanted to remind you."

Peter had done this with Edmund, talking to him as he slept. He wanted to do it for Lucy, so that they could "get to know him", as he always told his mother solemnly. She couldn't help but laugh at how serious he was, his little brows knitting together as he spoke. She didn't mind, it was a pair of eyes on the babies, and it gave her a moment of peace; and if it made Peter happy then so be it.

"I like your hair," he said, reaching out to touch it, "Edmund- he's your other brother, he's still a baby too- didn't have any hair when he was born, well not really. He looked bald for a while but now he has a full head of hair! Mummy doesn't like brushing it because it's kinda curly and it gets tangled easy and he fusses. But you don't fuss at all, do you?" he grinned down at the sleeping baby, "I hardly ever hear you cry at all. I like that. Susan and Ed cry a lot, but I don't. So we're a lot alike, you and me. I bet you'll like fairytales just like me and Su, too. I'll read them to you every night if you like, I can read all the words now!" He leaned in close, whispering, "So can Susan, but I read them better." He rocked on his heels for a moment, smiling at nothing, "You know, you're my second baby sister, and I know how to take care of little sisters really good. I take care of Susan all by myself. So I'm what Daddy calls a professor. A professor of baby sisters. So don't be afraid because Professors know everything about whatever they're a Professor of. I can't wait till you're bigger, Lucy. Then we can all play together! You'll never be lonely, because we'll always be here. I think that's my favorite thing about being your brother. I have three friends that never have to go home! I'm sad because sometimes I'll have to go to school while you're too little, but soon you and Ed will go to school too and we can always be together."

He leaned down, kissing her cheek; not noticing his mother peeking in with her camera.  
"I love you Lucy."


	2. Bad Dreams

"Peter! Peter!"

Peter woke out of a dead sleep in his bed, swearing he heard someone yelling. He looked around, confused, until it came again.

"Peter!"

It was Susan, and he swung his 7 year old legs over the bed, running into her room. His parents never seemed to wake up when Susan had nightmares, usually exhausted from spending every waking hour caring for Edmund and Lucy. He didn't mind though- he liked taking care of Susan. He came in, brushing her hair out of her face, looking down at her.  
"It's alright Su, I'm here," he said, smiling at her, "See? You don't have to be scared." She sat up, throwing her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest.  
"Peter! I had a nightmare, it was so scary!" she cried, clinging to him.  
"Do you want to sleep with me?" he asked. She didn't even move her face from his chest, just nodded. He grabbed her hand, leading her quietly into his room before closing the door. She was already in his bed, under the covers but still looking scared. He climbed up next to her, rubbing the sides of her head down to her ears.  
"It's okay Susan," he said quietly, "It's just a dream, and dreams can't hurt you."  
"I had a bad dream about you," she sniffled, "That they took you away."  
"Who?" he asked, looking concerned.  
"The bad men," she cried, burying her face in his arm, "They took you away because I was being bad!" He cuddled her close, shushing her.  
"No one will take me away because you're never bad," he said with a smile.  
"But they will!" she wailed harder, "They know that you make up stories and say you did the bad things I did and they want me to be punished so they take you away!" The dream sort of frightened him too, and he didn't want to think of all the trouble he had with Mummy because he never let Susan get in trouble. He shushed her, grabbing the big book of fairytales on the bedside table, trying to comfort her.  
"We'll read a story and then we won't think about the bad men anymore, okay Su?" he asked. She nodded, a small smile on her face. He couldn't actually read, of course, but he had an idea of what some of the words were and he knew what the pictures meant. He started to tell a tale of a knight saving a beautiful princess from an evil dragon, slowly feeling his eyes grow heavy. As he managed to mumble the end, he looked down to see Susan fast asleep and looking rather content. He congratulated himself for being such a good storyteller, snuggling up next to her and falling asleep himself.


	3. Princess

Five year old Susan stood in front of her mother's mirror, swishing her dress from side to side. It was so pretty and poofy, she felt just like a princess in her and Peter's storybook, and her mother had even let her wear a little makeup. She turned and ran down the hall, her new shoes _click-click-click_ing as she went. She pounded on Peter's door, so excited for him to see.

_He'll say I look just like a princess,_ she thought, spinning around, _And then I'll know I look like one!_

Peter opened the door, peeking out at her.  
"I'm not ready!" he said, closing the door again. He was still fumbling with his shoelaces, having already exasperated his mother to the verge of tears with his cries that he was a big boy and he could do it by himself. He hadn't taken into consideration that he still had not perfected the art of tying a shoe. In his fustration, he simply stuffed the laces down in the sides of the shoe, opening the door with a huge smile.  
"Susan, you look like a princess," he said, his voice filled with awe. He didn't need any prodding; she just did look like a princess; and Peter had always felt that if Susan looked pretty, she deserved to be told so. She lifted the corners of her skirt, giggling, "Do you really think so?" she asked, swishing around again.  
"Of course I do!" he said sincerely, "Or an angel."

She grabbed his hand, giggling as she dragged him down the hall towards their mother's voice.

"Peter! Susan! We must go now or we'll be late!"


	4. Different

"Helen, his siblings will notice eventually," Alberta said, eyeing the blond-haired boy in the corner, patiently listening to some fantastic tale that his sister was regaling, "That flaxen hair. His build is different from Edmund's, he's sturdier. And his nose! I've never seen a _Pevensie_ with that nose."  
"Alberta," she said, motioning for her to stop that conversation, "Not in front of them, please." Alberta snorted a bit, shaking her head.  
"I just think you're being quite foolish, that's all," she said, giving the boy a disparraging look again, "He's strange, different. I still think you should have done what I said years ago."  
"Alberta!" she said harshly, making Susan and Peter look up quickly. Alberta still had her nose wrinkled, glaring a bit at Peter as he asked, "What's wrong, Mummy?"  
"Nothing dear, just play with your sister. Why don't you go upstairs with Lucy, edmund and Eustace?" she said, her command disguised as a suggestion. He grabbed Susan's hand, pulling her to her feet.  
"Come on, Su," he said, gently tugging her along.  
"I want to play down here!" she said firmly, pulling against him. He could feel his mother's irritation rising, and he went for the never failing suggestion, "But what if we played knight and princess upstairs? That'd be fun." Susan immeadiately agreed, dashing off. He followed, but stopped at the top of the stairs, listening to the two older women as Edmund and Susan quarreled about who would be the dragon. He felt a finger in his side, making him leap out of his skin. He looked over, Lucy staring back at him.  
"Peter, what are you doing?" she asked.  
"Just listening to Mummy and Auntie Alberta," he whispered, "You have to be quiet or we'll get in trouble." Lucy nodded, not understanding why Peter wanted to listen. She knew about Mummy's and Daddy's big secret about Peter and she kept her promise not to tell anyone, but since then, Peter always wanted to listen to the grown ups. It was boring, and she scooted quietly away to play with the others.

"He knows," Helen said resignedly, clutching her teacup with shaking hands.  
"And let me guess, he's already began to treat all of you differently," she snorted, "That boy is a bit too mature for a child his age. Do you see how he always plays daddy to the others. He likes it a little too much if you ask me."  
"He's always been like that, Alberta, it's natural for older brothers to be like that. If anything, he's been more clingy of his father and siblings than ever," she said, "But he's afraid that the others won't love him anymore if they find out."  
"You should've let someone actually adopt him," Alberta said, "People always end up like their parents, Helen. You know that," she shook her head, taking another sip, "Just imagine how he'll be- a lying little scoundrel. Do you really want that in your house?"  
"Alberta," she said tiredly, "Can we just…not discuss this? I appreciate that you're trying to help, but it really isn't." Alberta leaned down, taking the teapot from the table, "I'll make some more tea." She came round the corner and saw Peter sitting there, listening at the top of the stairs. She yelled, jumping so hard that she dropped the teapot. Peter rushed down the stairs, picking up the pieces.  
"I'm sorry Auntie," he said, "I didn't mean to frighten you!" She grasped him firmly by the top of the ear, dragging him into the sitting room.  
"Are you quite alright? I heard you-" Helen began, only to be put face-to-face with a very upset looking Peter, "Oh, Peter, you didn't."  
"Yes, he did!" Alberta said, "He was sitting at the top of the stairs listening to us and her scared the wits out of me!" she said, "Now I have to replace that teapot- do you know how expensive that was?" Helen was quiet, trying to decide what to do- on one hand, it was very wrong for Peter to have been evesdropping, but on the other…it wasn't his fault that Alberta had dropped the teapot. He had just been sitting there after all.  
"Peter, you shouldn't be listening to other's conversations," she said firmly, "There are some things little boys just aren't supposed to hear." He nodded, seemingly understanding. She sighed, shaking her head, "Right, nose in the corner and think about how you would feel if someone was spying on you when you were talking."  
"Spying?" came Alberta's shrill voice, "What about my teapot!"  
"I think it's time for us to go home," Helen said tiredly, "Peter, fetch your siblings, we need to catch the train." Peter did as his mother directed, gathering his siblings much to their delight. They hated these visits as much as their mother seemed too and were happy to go.

Sitting on the train, Helen smiled at her son; his sister's heads in his lap, fast asleep, while his brother's in hers.  
"Peter," she whispered, "I was quite serious earlier about spying."  
"I know," he whispered back, "But Auntie Alberta doesn't like me and I wanted to know why."  
"Sweetie, Auntie Alberta doesn't like anyone," she said with a soft laugh, "So don't you take anything she says to heart."  
"But Mummy," he said quietly, laying a hand over each of the girl's exposed ears, "Why does she think I'll end up bad and that you should've let someone else adopt me? Did you want someone else to adopt me?"  
She reached out, gently holding his hand.  
"Forget what she said, dear."


	5. Dear Friend

Peter was looking over a scattering of papers on his desk, his mind spinning in circles. This lod needs this, that village needs this; he was happy to serve his people but there were days when he wished he could sweep it away and forget it.

"High King Peter, sire," came a familiar voice from the door. He looked up, a smile crossing his face. Tumnus was always a welcome sight; he was one of the few people that did not nag or badger him unless it was on the behalf of Lucy.  
"Yes, Mr. Tumnus, what is it?" he asked,smiling amusedly.  
"Sire, I do so humbly request on behalf of Queen Lucy-"  
"What does she need now? Let me guess, some manner of new toy," he said with a laugh, "Really, Mr. Tumnus, whatever she needs, you can simply write down. You know that your speech is unnecessary." Tumnus smiled, bowing deeply, "But one does not simply write a list for a High King, Sire."  
"Mr. Tumnus, how often have I asked you to call me Peter?" he asked, shaking his head.  
"With all due respect, Sire, it has been as many times as I have asked you to call me Tumnus," he said with a smile. Peter tried not to laugh and failed miserably. He laughed hard, his shoulders shaking as Tumnus laughed with him. When they finally stopped, their eyes met and Peter shook his head. Peter was not a strict monarch; he was rather uncomfortable with the constant bowing and honorifics, but it was very clear amongst the court that Tumnus had special privilage to any other.  
"What does Lucy need, Tumnus?" he asked, leaving out the mister to please the faun.  
"Queen Lucy desires a Narnian flute, Peter," he replied, defering the same favor to Peter, "She wishes to learn to play." At this, Peter chuckled again while shaking his head.  
"You know she'll give up on it," he said, "She'll get bored and-"  
"If you'd permit me, Sire," he interrupted, "It's not my concern how long Queen Lucy will play, or how well she does it. Lucy desires a Narnian flute and I am here to ask it of you." Peter smiled, shaking his head once more. He forgot sometimes that Tumnus was as protective of Lucy as he was; and easier to offend.  
"My apologies, Tumnus," he said, "Queen Lucy shall have her flute." Tumnus bowed, straightening up again.  
"Sire, again, if you'll permit me. Queen Lucy misses you," he said carefully.  
"What?" he asked, looking puzzled, "Why would she miss me? She has you and Edmund and Susan."  
"Your majesty is a very busy man, and so are her other siblings. And while I am a fine friend; I am not her older brother," he looked Peter square in the eye, something he was not used to, "Perhaps it would be wise to remember, Sire, that you are of no good to anyone is you work yourself to death. Edmund has much of your attention as he is helping you in all these things; but Queen Lucy is lonely and I'm sure Queen Susan has not gotten a proper night's rest without you." Peter's head shot up, his eyes meeting Tumnus' once more.  
"I've spoken out of turn, Sire," he said, looking contrite, "And I am sorry; I only spoke it to remind Your Highness that not only does Narnia look to you, but your family. With that, I shall take my leave." He gave a small bow, heading towards the door.  
"Mr. Tumnus," Peter called out.  
"Sire?"  
"Thank you, dear friend."  
"Sire," he replied with a smile, bowing his head once as he went out the door.


	6. The Golden Haired Girl

_They laid in the sun happily, the waves lapping gently at the shore; Lucy and Edmund swinging a small, blond haired girl between them. The air was filled with their laughter, and the pleas of "Again, again Uncle Edmund! Please! Aunt Lucy, please?" He looked over at Susan, her face the vision of happiness. She looked over at him, her smile widening as she grasped his hand. _  
_"She's beautiful, isn't she?" she asked, looking back at the water, "Who would've thought that Edmund would be such a doting Uncle? We knew that Lucy would spoil her, but Ed is even worse," she said with a laugh. Edmund had the girl cradled in his arms, spinning her about and tossing her gently in the water. Peter didn't see her head appear right away, and he felt his heart seize. Where was she?_  
_Suddenly, a few feet away, that blonde head popped up out of the water, her giggles carrying back to him. She was such a good swimmer, just like her Aunt Lucy. _

_"She's so beautiful, Su," he said softly, "She looks just like you." _  
_"She has Edmund's eyes," she said softly, "I think that really thrilled him, you know. She has a little piece of her Uncle." _  
_"She has Lucy's gills," he joked, "And her laugh." _  
_"She has your hair, and your smile," Susan said, stroking his back. _  
_"She'll have Edmund's brains," he added. _  
_"And Lucy's charm," She said with a grin._  
_"Your grace." _  
_"Your loyalty." _

_"Peter…" he looked at her, but she wasn't looking at him, her lips not moving as he heard her voice. _  
_"Peter…Peter…._

Peter!"

He woke with a start, looking sleepily up as Susan, "You are so hard to wake up!" she said, leaning down and kissing him, "But I'm glad that you slept well. Are you ready for breakfast?"  
"Yes," he said, a bit dazed. She got up to leave, but he grabbed her wrist, pulling her back down into the bed with him.  
"Susan," he said, what would you want to name our daughter?"


	7. Invincible

"Edmund!"

Peter sat up in a cold sweat, his heart pounding.  
Edmund.  
The dreams had started again for some reason, the same he had since the first time they stumbled through the wardrobe. Edmund, his body broken and bleeding. Edmund, turned to stone. Edmund, spread eagle on the stone table, his eyes dull. He felt Susan's warm hands on his back, rubbing gently.  
"The same dream," he sighed, his eyes prickling with tears, "Every time, it's the same."  
"Is it because of his training?" She asked, kissing his shoulder, "He isn't a child anymore, and I know you were hurt by what he did-"  
"It's not about that," he said gruffly, "It's about me not being there to protect him. It's about me being to blind to see my brother was in trouble."  
"None of us saw it," Susand said, trying to comfort him.  
"That doesn't matter! I'm his older brother- I should know, and I didn't, and he was almost a sacrifice. And look at him still? You'd think he were made of steel, the way he behaves. He's not invincible, his bones break like anyone elses, he bleeds the same red as the rest of us!"

"Peter, you're getting too upset," she adminoshed him, looking very serious, "I understand, but you're going to have to let go of all that now. He's a king, and he needs to be ready to protect himself and care for himself when we aren't around. We should afford him the same chance to grow that we do Lucy."  
"No, you let Lucy do that. She's too young, Su. What if she gets hurt, what if someone tries to hurt her?" He looked at her, looking completely petrified, "Her and Edmund, what if they both are harmed?"  
"And who is going to harm Lucy?" she snorted, "I don't think a person in Narnia could think to bear any ill will to Lucy, and Edmund can more than handle himself."  
"When he isn't being reckless," he said, "It's as if he does it just to make me worry."  
"Peter, not everything is about you," she joked, "Oh come on, you were just as bad once. Jumping off of things and getting into scrapes with older boys over dolls," she pulled him back down against the pillow, hushing him as she stroked his hair, "Sleep, my sweet Knight. Edmund and Lucy are safely tucked in their beds, think about all this is the morning."


	8. Knowing

He knew that his feelings had changed from something normal, something brotherly, to something more in a moment. When Susan and Lucy had come out from their rooms, all preparing for their coronation, it was then. Lucy twirled circles around both him and Edmund, giggling like a mad child, while Peter just stared at Susan.  
"It's ugly, isn't it?" she groaned, "I must look awful- I just thought it looked so nice hanging up…"  
"No, no," he said quietly, You look….amazing."

After that, there was no question in his mind that he loved her as a woman, not as a sister. He slowly began to grab her hand more often than was truly proper, his kisses lingering and growing closer to her mouth. His eyes followed her everywhere and he couldn't control it. He was truly infatuated.  
Things had carried to a new level in Narnia, he knew there Susan returned his feelings and…she wasn't afraid. It was simple.

And then they ended up back in England. At first, he was heartbroken. He'd cry and cry and try to make Susan remember the love they had, the love that he hadn't forgotten, but it was no use.  
Then he was angry. He was angry at the world, at Aslan, at Susan. How could Aslan take that away from him? How could the world keep going round and round while he was stuck in slow motion? How could Susan- no. How dare Susan. He hated her. He was still madly in love with her. Oh, how he hated that he loved her.

But then….he accepted it. He was still heartbroken, still angry at the world, but he had accepted that his Susan was put in a box, hidden somewhere deep inside his sister. He knew that she wasn't coming back soon. So, he accepted. And he waited.


	9. Forever My Father

Peter always felt a large amount of pressure on him since his father had first left for the war…and when he returned, he was never the same. It could never be said of Mr. Pevensie that he did not try to be present for his family; but after seeing what he had seen, he was much happier to plunge into his lectures and classes than to deal with the small tragedies of growing children.

He had accepted that he was the man of the house; that it was his responsibility to look after Susan, Edmund and Lucy. He had accepted it easily, in all honesty the four of them had always tended to fend for themselves; especially Peter. His mother had always said that he was so headstrong and independent that she had simply given up on trying to coddle and assist him. It was not something that escaped his notice though. In fact, as he got older, he felt quite the contrary.

He knew he was not truly Mr. Pevensie's son, and when he shut out all of the children; it struck a chord deep within Peter. Susan had barred him from her heart, he and his mother were never very close, and now the only father he knew didn't have time. Was he so unloveable? He hated himself for thinking that, it was such a…girlish sentiment.

"Dad?" he asked, tapping on the door gently. There was no response, and he pushed the door open anyways.  
"Dad, it's Christmas…can't those papers wait?" he asked, fustrated. Were those papers so damn important. Mr. Pevensie didn't look up.  
"Sit, Peter," he said firmly, gesturing to a seat in front of his desk. Feeling rather like he was an errant boy in the Headmaster's office- a feeling he was accustomed to.

"Peter, you're becoming a man," he said seriously, finally looking up from his paperwork, "And it's time for you to stop being so foolish." He watched his father pull off his spectacles, rubbing his face. "You need to stop encouraging Lucy to continue this fantasy land she's made up. She has a fantastic mind, but it would be put to better use if she were thinking about more sensible things." Peter openened his mouth to argue, only to be stopped by a raised hand, "I've heard you two talking about it- about some Mr. Tumnus character and a Prince Caspian, and it's all nonsense. I know you feel that you're being a good brother, but you are not helping her. She is not doing well in her school, a few of her teachers have said that she spends all her time daydreaming."

"It's not nonsense," he said quietly.  
"Speak up, boy," Mr. Pevensie demanded, looking exasperated.  
"How bad can it be that Lucy believes in a daydream?" he asked, the word daydream burning on his lips, "She's just a little girl! And that school is terrible- haven't you noticed how sad she looks now, every holiday? She hates it there!"  
"Do not raise your voice to me," Mr. Pevensie said seriously, "I said you are becoming a man- you are not one yet, boy."

His blood boiled. He was a man, he was a man in Narnia and all those experiences and wisdom were still sitting in his chest and he had never quite accepted that he would have to wait another twenty long years before he was as old as he was in Narnia. By all logic, he was older than the man that sat in front of him.

He stood up from his seat. He was sick of this conversation, and he wanted nothing more than to go back to his room and avoid everyone for a bit while he straightened his thoughts out. He looked at the door, seeing the sliver of a face in the crack. It was Susan's, and she turned and fled when he made eye contact with her.

"I see a lot of your father in you, boy," he said. Peter whirled around; it was the first time he'd ever heard of his dad mentioning that…he had another father.  
"What do you mean?" he asked softly, "You knew him?"  
"I knew him in passing, through mutual friends," he said, "And you have him in you. Not just your looks, but your attitude. He was terrified when he heard that your mother was pregnant with you. He was very good at promises when things were easy, but when the going go tough, he got going." Mr. Pevensie looked back down at his papers, giving the parting statement, "Remember that, boy. A promise in peace is easily broken in war."

It was something that had stuck with him for the rest of his life; a promise in peace is easily broken in war.


	10. Picture in the Park

"But how are we going to take the picture?" Lucy demanded, frowing. She wanted a picture of the four of them together- they hadn't taken one in ages and Peter and Susan were actually getting along today. Well, at least one of them was glaring or crying.

"Lucy, perhaps we should just take one at home," Susan reasoned, " Surely Mum or Dad would-"  
"Dad always manages to cut people's heads off and Mum's busy," Lucy said, folding her arms.  
"You could always ask someone here," Edmund casually suggested, not really paying attention.  
"That's it!" Lucy squealed, running over to the nearest person- an elderly man feeding some birds.  
Susan looked over at Peter expectantly.  
"Well?" she demanded, "Are you really just going to let her run off like that, talking to a strange man?"  
"He's an old man feeding birds, Su. The worst that can happen is he refuses and she asks someone else." He replied  
"And look. I don't think he's telling her no," Edmund added with a small chuckle.  
The old man nodded with a smile, rising to his feet with the assistance of his cane. Lucy was overjoyed, clapping her hands and bouncing excitedly.  
"He said yes! Now we must get all together so we all fit in the picture!" she said, "Peter, why don't you stand-"  
"Next to Edmund," Susan finished, giving her a sharp look, "Boys on one side, girls on the other." Lucy almost stuck her tongue out at Susan. She was just trying to help, they hadn't been within four feet of each other all day, and compared to how close they were in Narnia…she paused for a moment, willing the prickling in her eyes to go away. She loned for Narnia, but more than anything she wanted this picture for when they all went back to school.  
"Alright," she said, her voice cheerful, "Get together!"

The elderly man snapped the picture, looking at them with a wide smile, "I think it'll turn out quite nice for you, miss. I hope you like it." With that, he handed back the camera and began his slow walk back to his bench.  
"Thank you!" she called out, waving to him. He turned back and waved at Lucy, smiling all the while. She did have that effect on people.


End file.
